


Ten Silver Spoons

by feverbeats



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/M, Gen, M/M, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 01:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20017933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: Everything in his life, for the first time, makes sense. All the parts are working together, well-oiled and smooth. Obie gets his weapons. Pepper gets to work hard at something she cares about. Tony gets to be left alone.(An AU in which Tony does not realize Obadiah is evil.)





	Ten Silver Spoons

**Author's Note:**

> There are some pairings, but they're not the focus, so I didn't list them. Title from "Mowgli's Road" by Marina and the Diamonds. I've been working on versions of this story off and on for nine years. This is related to the Bioengingeering series only in that Tony is trans, but I don't think I'll ever write Tony being cis again, so. Thanks to bluestalking for the beta!
> 
> Warnings: Alcoholism, transphobia (use of trans character's birth name, etc.). Major themes about the ways in which childhood sexual exploitation/grooming impacts adult survivors. No explicit on-page sex, but this is a major component of the story, so please take care of yourself if that's not something you want to read.

Tasha doesn't have the internet when he's twelve, although his family will be one of the first to get it. He can't Google "transgender." The library is not very helpful.

But what he can do is tell Dad and Mom and Obadiah and anyone else who will listen that he wants to be called Anthony. He goes from skirts to sweatpants, throwing the rest of his wardrobe out the window. Tony has always been dramatic.

(Sometimes he still wears skirts, when Obiadiah convinces him he needs to take one for the team so Dad can take him to a meeting once in a while. Obadiah always makes him feel better about it afterwards.)

Mom is just so fucking sad about the whole thing, which hurts more than almost anything. What actually hurts most, though, is Dad. Tony kind of thought Dad might be _happier_ with having a son, but that was a stupid thing to think. Instead of letting him help with projects, Dad starts calling him by his full name. "Natasha" hurts, and Mom starts doing it too, and the only one, the _only one_ calling him Tony is Obadiah.

Obadiah is Dad's best friend, and now he's Tony's best friend. He talks to Tony's Dad in a low, rumbling, insistent voice, telling him, "The kid knows what he wants."

"She's twelve," Dad says. "Believe me, she doesn't. And neither of us wants the kind of press she's going to get."

Not having the internet makes it easier to ignore people's reactions, although harder than if his dad wasn't famous. Tony can't pretend that he exists in a vacuum, with no body and nobody's eyes on him, so he makes the choices that he has to in order to survive. Tony Stark, already a womanizer at thirteen (it isn't true, but later it will be). He gets very good at everything he does, then better than good. College at fourteen, MIT, awards, accolades. The press doesn't stop, but at least it's sometimes weighted toward that stuff.

The distance between Tony and his dad, already immense, just increases. The only person who stays close is Obadiah. He's always here, hand on Tony's shoulder.

Those are the things Tony chooses to remember about Obadiah.

*

For someone who makes weapons for a living (or did), Tony isn't great at knowing when he's losing a war. He's supposed to be a big-picture guy, but in fairness, he's spent the last decade partying and not giving a shit.

Also in fairness, he keeps having nightmares and things that feel like heart attacks but aren't. Anyone would be off their game.

When he shows Obie the miniaturized reactor in his chest, it feels like winning. It feels like the first time he opened his shirt for Obie after top surgery. For all the same reasons, it's a mistake, but Tony doesn't know how not to show his cards.

The funny part is--Actually, there are very few funny parts, but if he had to pick, it would be the fact that now that he's finally interested in being part of his company, they're locking him out.

Everything is happening fast, and Tony doesn't know what to do or say to stop it. He isn't even sure he wants to. Maybe Obie's right, and he has some kind of post-traumatic stress. Maybe he doesn't need to be making decisions right now.

So Tony lets Obie do it. He lets the company slip away, and he lets Obie get a really good look at the arc technology. As long as Tony has some breathing room down in his workshop, he's still winning. He's still a pheonix and not a fuck-up.

"Doing okay, Tony?"

"What's that?" Tony says, making no effort to shout over his music or turn it down. He's halfway through an idea, which is when Obie loves to interrupt him most.

Obie turns the music off. It's a bad habit people have, and it makes Tony's blood pressure rise.

"What?" he says shortly. "I was in a groove." He teeters between bluster and fight-or-flight instinct. Arguing with Obie is fun that way.

"Just checking in," Obie says without remorse. "You've been locking yourself away down here a lot. What're--What're you working on?" He taps the top of Tony's computer. His hands are so big and they're always everywhere. Tony can't get over the feeling that he loses control of a room every time Obie enters it. That wasn't a problem when he was twenty-one, but it's a problem now.

"I don't know," he says. "I had an idea, but--" The suit he made in Afghanistan keeps evaporating from his mind every time he tries to work on it. He can't get his head right.

"Sure," Obie says. "Well, I was able to walk back the disaster you created. Our stocks are going up again. Slowly, but going up."

It takes Tony a few seconds to work through the implications of that. "So we're still selling weapons."

"We're a weapons company. We make weapons. Come on, what would your father say?"

There they are, the--so to speak--big guns.

"He'd be glad the company wasn't going under," Obie says, answering his own question. "Come on, _Tony_. Everything he worked for."

Tony's dad was never very happy with him and Obie knows that. Howard thought Tony did things for attention, and it was all the wrong kind of attention. And anyway, it never worked. Not on Howard. The only one who ever gave Tony attention was Obie.

Tony is being a dick.

"Thanks," he says. He can't make himself sound grateful, but he knows he should be. And anyway, it would be great if not everything in his life is a lie. That would be nice. That would be really nice.

Obie breaks into a huge smile. "Yeah, you bet. Just try to stay off the radar for a little bit. We could even check you in somewhere--"

But Tony still has limits. "Check me in? What, you want to lock me up in a mental hospital? How am I supposed to do my work then? Hm?"

"Now, you know that's not what I meant," Obie says, already starting to retreat. "Just take care of yourself. You're pushing yourself pretty hard, and I don't think the board is totally off-base with this post-trauma stuff."

Tony isn't sure about that either, but it's such an alarming thought that he's not going to entertain it.

"I can handle it," he tells Obie. "Don't I always handle myself?"

Obie shakes his head and smiles, leaving without clarifying what that's supposed to mean.

In the following months, Tony starts watching the news a lot more. He sees what's happening in Gulmira, but there's nothing he can do to help. His suit project is dead on the ground, and now the company's resources aren't even in his hands anymore. He spends longer and longer days in the workshop, trying to hammer the suit into something he can use, but he's drunk too often, and everyone keeps interrupting him.

He's making himself run, but just barely.

Pepper comes to find him at least twice a day, bringing him food and questions he can't answer. Today, she has a business card for him.

"Ah--" Tony waves a finger at her. "You don't know I don't like--"

"Being handed things, I know, but Tony--"

"Then if you know, why did you--"

"Tony, this is important." The cadence of her voice finally gets through to him, and he stops. "Or it might be important," she says. "It's a government thing."

The business card is from someone named Coulson. Strategic Homeland something something CIA FBI bullshit.

"Probably nothing," Tony says, looking up at her.

"Probably," she says. "But they had some questions about when you escaped in Afghanistan."

Questions that won't go anywhere they when see how badly Tony is fucking up all his plans. He was going to be a huge problem for them, maybe, but he just has all this PTSD and no company.

"Throw it in the ocean," he tells Pepper. He turns his music back up before he can hear her exasperated sigh.

But the suit idea won't let him go. He sees other places on the news, places that need help, and he remembers the feeling of being someone capable of helping. If he doesn't want to party or sell weapons anymore, but he doesn't have anything to replace it with, what does that make him?

He calls a meeting with Obie. He does it right, uses his Outlook calendar, books a room. Obie shows up in a suit, looking suspicious as hell.

"You could have just texted me," he says. "You know I always have time for you."

"Just trying to put my best foot forward," Tony says, but he's thinking of other times Obie has said he has time. The new memories write over the old ones, and Tony wonders if the words are intentional. If they're meant to make him feel sixteen again.

"Well, put it forward fast, 'cause I have a board meeting in twenty-eight minutes." He makes a big show of checking his watch. That definitely makes Tony feel sixteen, with his dad scheduling conversations with him in between real meetings. Oof. That's a lot of baggage to wade through just to get to Obie.

There's no second chair, so Tony perches on the edge of Obie's desk. "I'm working on a project," he says. "And I'm not saying this because I need your approval, but I thought you might be interested. You were talking about making the arc technology applicable?"

"Yeah," Obie says, with a smile, "and you know what, you were right? It is. We're doing great things with this, Tony."

That was the plan, right? But Tony hasn't seen any of the actual work. "You know I'm an engineer, right?" he says. "Not just a playboy?"

"Tony," Obie says. "Of course I know that." He checks his watch again.

"I know you think we can use it for weapons--which, of course we can--but I'm onto something bigger. Something that matters." He flips his phone around and casts it onto Obie's big, new wall-mounted TV. "This."

Obie is quiet for a long moment. The image of the screen looks unfinished even to Tony, but it's a start, right? It's more than what he had in the cave. The resources are more, anyway.

"What is that?" Obie asks. "Is that a--"

"Weapon?" Tony asks. "Not exactly. It's more like--a vehicle." That's not what he was thinking of, but now, in this room, he finds himself walking back the amount of information he's handing out. Not that Obie will misuse it, but he's not an engineer. He doesn't know how to make this stuff tick. Not like Tony does.

"It's a pipe dream," Obie says firmly. "Trust me, I can tell from here. But if you give me the specs, I'll see if I can turn it into anything."

"Wait," Tony says, "what? Because I'm pretty sure I'm turning it into something right now."

"Tony…" Obie stands up and comes around the desk to rest one big hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony feels both trapped and grounded. "I just don't know if you're in the right place for this right now."

"It's--Obie, do you remember when I was seventeen and just getting out of college, how I came to you and said I was going to make some changes and I needed you to trust me? To be on my side, because I knew what I was doing? I need that again."

Obie looks at him for a long moment. Then he says, "Okay, Tony. I trust you. But what I can't trust you to do is take care of yourself. You need me for that. Will you let me? What do you say? Let's make this a joint venture again."

Tony's instincts say yes, and he should probably trust his instincts, right? He's practically hard-wired to trust Obie.

"I don't know if you should be on your own right now," Obie continues. "But I know it's not your fault you're losing control."

"Am I?" Tony asks. It's a valid question. It's a lot of things, some of them defiant, but he hasn't slept in a week. Because he feels good, but--he's not always the best judge, right? Obie's always been the judge. And Pepper, but she keeps telling him he's losing control, too.

It would be really easy just to let someone else make the important calls.

"You know what I mean," Obie says. "You're getting paranoid again."

_Again_. That's either helpful or insidious. Tony can't tell. "I'm not _paranoid_. You know, people did actually kidnap and try to execute me, I--"

"And that's why you're sick, Tony." Obie holds up his hands, empty of weapons or intent to harm. "Can I get you some help, here? Some actual help? And I don't mean this superhero stuff."

"Superhero?" For a second Tony can't figure out what he's talking about. Oh, right, the suit. That's--sure. Something like a superhero.

"Now, I'm not mad you didn't tell me," Obie says, ahead of whatever Tony was going to say. "So don't worry about that. But I don't think you've thought through how you want to handle this."

"I'm a thirty-eight," Tony says. "Trust me, I've thought."

"You're not thirty-eight," Obie says. "And you sometimes need a little help on the long-term planning stuff. Your dad was the same way. Trust me." Somehow he's gotten them over to the couch along the far wall. He pulls Tony down next to him and slings his arm around him.

"Okay, busted," Tony says weakly. He kind of wanted to keep pieces of this one to himself, at least for now. He doesn't even know what it is for sure.

Months pass like that. Tony hacks away at the suit, but he doesn't get close to anything usable. He isn't sleeping more than a couple hours in a night, which is bad even for him. He's drinking more than before. Needless to say, the nightmares are bad.

Pepper keeps appearing in the doorway to his lab like a ghost, with things for him to sign. Today she comes in without a clipboard.

"Mr. Stark," she says. That's how he can tell it's serious.

"Hey," he says, "how big are your hands?" He just wants to put in the upgraded reactor, and he's having trouble doing it alone, or with robots.

"Tony," Pepper says. "You're not listening."

No, he isn't, not really.

"I think I saw something," she says. She's twisting her hands together and looking at him with too much anxiety for him to handle. "But I'm not sure. I want to keep digging. But something on Obadiah's computer--"

"Why were you on his computer?" Tony asks, deflecting.

"I saw him video chatting with someone," Pepper says. "Tony, I don't know how much you should trust him. It's not just about that, though, because I'm not even sure, but the whole way he--"

"I'm so sick," Tony says, spinning around in his chair, "of everyone telling me what to do."

Pepper stares at him, and he can see her fuming with frustration. ""I--The places where you choose to draw the line--Okay," she says shortly. Then she walks out.

Tony doesn't see a lot of Pepper in the next few weeks, which is fine, because he's busy. He takes himself out to parties. He drinks new things. He meets a lot of cute girls.

There are problems with that, too. It seems like everything is a PTSD trigger for Tony these days. If that's what he's got. Obie still thinks it is.

In between all of those things, Tony keeps working. He has a prototype of the suit finished, but he hasn't gotten in it yet. Obie keeps pushing him, asking how it's going, which makes Tony shut down even more. Pepper is almost invisible, although Tony thinks she might be doing some of what's left of his job. He needs to buy her a drink when this is over. If this is over. Maybe this is just his life now.

At least Obie's still there. Once he comes into Tony's workshop so quietly that Tony doesn't hear him. It's not until he says, "Well, that's quite a thing," that Tony realizes he isn't alone.

"Don't do that,"Tony says. He turns his music down, jarred out of the moment. "JARVIS, warn me, maybe?"

"I'm sorry, sir," JARVIS says.

Obie shakes his head and laughs. "So that's the vehicle." He points that the prototype that Tony's been working on. It's looking better. "Doesn't look like that, exactly."

"We'll see," Tony says. He takes a pen out of Obie's pocket and jots down a correction on a blueprint.

Obie narrows his eyes. "That so. Then how about another compromise?"

"Dirty word," Tony says. "Come on, what do you want now?"

"Come on, Tony. Don't play around with me. You know what this looks like. It looks crazy, right? Like your brain's still trapped in Afghanistan. Unless this thing _works_...?" He's giving Tony an out, a chance to say this is just about being stuck.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted to try it on." Tony says it like a joke, in case that will make it one.

Obie smiles at him kindly. "Hilarious, Tony. I don't know how I'd look running around in a metal suit. Look, let's not talk about that. Let's talk about if you really want people to think you're that crazy."

"I have work to do," Tony says, but the words get inside his head anyway, rattling around and echoing.

Obie gives him the universal "Far be it from me . . ." gesture and backs off.

Obie leaves him alone after that, for the most part. He's got a lot to do, essentially running the company. The other person who's doing that is Pepper. He can tell she's pissed at him, but he's not sure why. He wants to explain that he's trying to be better, not involving himself with the weapon sales or being an asshole, but working on building something that, if it's completed, might somehow make him a good person. Somehow it's never the right time, though.

Tonight Tony is working--which is always what he's doing when he's not partying--but nothing is coming out quite right. The project isn't coming together. The bass in his music isn't grounding him like it should. He doesn't hear Pepper come in.

When he finally hears her, it's because she shuts his music off, which is a bad start.

"I'm worried about you," she says.

Her eyes are red-rimmed and her arms are crossed, tense, ready to spring or defend herself. He knows she won't do either.

"Why?" Tony says. "I feel great. Take my pulse."

Pepper recoils from his outstretched arm. "You're not sleeping," she says. "You don't--Even if I didn't like everything you did before, I wasn't worried that you were out of control."

"Liar," Tony says calmly. Inside he's shouting, _Turn my music back on!_

Pepper makes a short, sharp, quickly-cut-off gesture. "This is worse. You've-- _completely_ backed off the company, and the direction Obadiah's taking it in--"

"No," Tony says. "Pepper, come on. This is working. Everything's working." Everything in his life, for the first time, makes sense. All the parts are working together, well-oiled and smooth. Obie gets his weapons. Pepper gets to work hard at something she cares about. Tony gets to be left alone.

Pepper turns around to go, but then she turns back. She doesn't usually do that. "Get your act together and grow up," she says. "Or there won't be anyone left to pull you out. I quit, Mr. Stark."

_Then_ she goes.

Tony doesn't turn his music back on.

Pepper has never quit before. Well, that's not quite true. She's tried before--once, or maybe more than that and Tony just talked her around so fast he's forgetting. But there was once.

_”Mr. Stark, I need to speak with you.”She's always so formal with him, at least when she thinks he's going to put up a fight. It might be a defense mechanism and it might be actual professionalism. Hard to tell. She's been working with him for three years, and Tony's amazed she's put up with him so this long._

_But the fact that she has is really something else. He also hasn't slept with her, which is something else again._

_He rolls out from behind his desk--he's here less and less--and tries to look at her very seriously. "What's up, pup?"_

_She winces. "Please don't--this is a serious conversation." She doesn't sit. "I don't know how much longer I can keep working here."_

_Tony feels a little hitch of panic in his chest. "Well, that doesn't make any sense," he says._

_She seems to be steeling herself. "I should be more clear. I'm quitting. I'm giving you a month's notice to, to get everything in order, but then I have to go. I have to."_

_"Double your salary," Tony says. First step, throw money at a problem._

_"It's not that," she says, but he thinks he sees a little pause. "The stress is killing me."_

_"But the stress of you leaving would kill me," Tony says, giving her his most winning smile. "I feel like you didn't consider that. Seriously, your salary, double it. And I'll hire some more people. Whatever you want."_

_At the time, he thought it might be the money. He didn't think it was knowing that he would die without her._

Instead of going after her, he calls Rhodey. That's someone who can't just walk away.

"Tony, I'm in bed."

Tony skips the joke and says, "But can we talk? Pepper's being just—You know how she gets. What's up with you?"

There's a short pause on the line. "Is this just a social call, or do you actually want advice? 'Cause I've got some of that for you."

"That's going around," Tony says, drumming his fingers on his workbench. "Might want to look into that. Kind of an epidemic. I--"

"Grow up, Tony," Rhodey snaps. "Listen, I did want to talk to you. When it wasn't midnight."

"You and everybody else," Tony says. He could use somebody to talk to, maybe. There's a lot going on.

"Tony." Rhodey is silent for a second. "I think you're out of control with this. Pepper called me earlier, that's how upset she was. She told me you're not eating, you're not sleeping, you're spending a lot of time with--"

"Listening!" Tony says sharply. "What I'm not doing is listening." He's watching one of his monitors, which JARVIS has highlighted in blue. Obie is on TV, being interviewed for about the fifth time in a month. It's from the six o'clock news, maybe today, maybe yesterday. They want to know what he thinks about Tony.

Obie smiles at them, the huge, genuine smile that Tony knows so well. Tony expects something neutral and indulgent to come out of his mouth. Instead, he says, "I support Tony's decision to step back a hundred percent. I think we can all see he needed a little time." The interview is cut with scenes of Tony at parties he can't remember, at interviews he panicked during. It doesn't look good.

"What do you see as the future of Stark Industries?" a reporter asks Obie.

Obie looks thoughtful. "I think the arc technology is the future for all of us"

"Tony," Rhodey says. "Tony!"

Tony tries to tune in to Rhodey's voice on the phone, thinking about college.

_Tony goes to college early. Like,_ early _-early. But it's not like he goes around telling everyone he's still a kid. He's only seventeen when he graduates. And he's only sixteen when he sleeps with James Rhodes._

_It's not a fair thing to do, especially to someone who is demonstrably not a creep (Tony's seen Rhodey walk drunk girls home to their roommates), so of course Tony does it._

_Tony flirts with Rhodey at every party, and Rhodey doesn't get it. He doesn't get Tony. Tony can see him looking Tony up and down for clues about what the hell. What do you do when you're sixteen and you don't pass and everybody knows about you, but you still dress and talk and act like a guy? Not get a lot of dates, it turns out. Tony has gone out with a few girls who claim to be straight and to get it, but they always dump him. He's gone out with a few guys who think he'll get past it and he'll do whatever in bed. Rhodey is different._

_Eventually, Rhodey is really drunk and goes for it. Tony has made it a point to be sober all night, so when he kisses Rhodey, there aren't any issues._

_It's good. It's really good. Rhodey doesn't touch his tits and lets Tony talk and Tony wishes he were drunk so he'd be able to process this better._

_After, Tony feels even more naked than he is._

_"Just don't tell anyone about this," Tony suggests. "You're too straightlaced for prison."_

_"What?" Rhodey demands. "Hold on."_

_Tony grabs his shirt and pulls his over his head. He doesn't know where the hell his binder is and doesn't care. He slept with someone nice and cute and funny. Fuck. He has to get out of here._

_"Don't tell me you're underage," Rhodey warns._

_"Bye," Tony says._

On the other end of the line, Rhodey is telling Tony not to call him anymore. "You must've known I'd walk out sooner or later," he says.

Tony did know that, years ago. He was certain of it. But then it didn't happen and didn't happen and now it's a horrible shock.

"I figured it'd be sooner," Tony says. "So that's a weight off my mind." You can't lose something if you destroy it first. Rhodey hangs up.

"Find me a party," Tony tells JARVIS. "Better yet, bring the party to me."

Tony experiences the rest of the night in a series of jolts. Snapshot of a woman with her top off--actually off--asking him to sign her tits. Snapshot of someone breaking his glass coffee table (him, maybe). Snapshot of the door, shut, nobody coming through it. He keeps expecting Pepper or Rhodey to stop him, but there's nobody left to stop him. He's unstoppable.

It's late--maybe four in the morning--when his phone rings. Maybe it's been ringing for a while. He picks up and it's Obie.

"Tony?" Obie has to shout over the music. "You're still up?"

"You know me," Tony says, his voice coming out so slurred he can barely understand it himself. His shirt is soaked with sweat and gin. Maybe he'll take it off so someone can sign him.

Obie peers around, trying to see past Tony. "Looks like quite a party," he says. "Don't wear yourself out." But he doesn't stop Tony, and then he hangs up, so Tony guesses he can keep going.

He's spiraling out, so he might as well pick how he does it. He can tell he's going to black out soon, so before he does, he texts Pepper: _wish u were beer_

He thinks about how funny she'll think it is and then he does black out. When he wakes up, nobody has even moved him.

He wonders, between crawling to the kitchen and making a smoothie, between checking his vital signs and throwing up, whether this is what rock bottom looks like, or if there's still more to come. If there's more, he'd almost rather stop now. But nobody's making him, and as he's established, he doesn't know how to stop on his own.

He thought he might have a reason, when he came back from Afghanistan. But he was wrong about that, and now he's just leaning as hard as he can into his old life until something breaks. Not the coffee table.

*

There are days when Tony's head is clear. He's making progress on his suit, even if it feels painfully slow. One day, when he's had some water and eaten enough, he decides to try it on.

It feels natural. More natural than getting drunk at a party, more natural than kissing a model. Natural like stepping into his own skin after college. Natural like changing all his paperwork to say Anthony.

"All systems are up and running, sir," JARVIS says. "However, I caution you--"

"I know," Tony says. "I know, we're not ready to fly." But the thrusters work, and the HUD, and everything else will follow. Today, he's sure of that.

*

Tony wants people to see the suit design, to tell him he's not crazy. He thinks about what it would mean to revive the expo his dad started, but he's barely functioning, so that's out. Besides, he can't put together something that big without Pepper.

He can do something smaller, though. He decides to host the Miniature Stark Expo at his house, outside. Small arc reactor in his chest, small Expo on his lawn. It makes sense. It makes it feel less like the big stuff is out of his control.

He doesn't tell Obie about it until people start to set up a few days before. Today Tony is lying on his bedroom floor, thinking. And drinking rum, but mostly thinking. He sees Obie's shoes as Obie comes in without knocking.

"You always do that," Tony says. He's pretty far gone at this point, so he doesn't have a handle on everything he's saying. He remembers being thirteen and lying on his bed, head hanging down, and seeing Obie's shoes from this same angle.

"Tony, who's on our lawn?" Obie asks.

"On _my_ lawn," Tony says. "On my lawn are the people I hired to put together the Expo."

"The what?"

"Exposition," Tony says, mangling the word horribly. "You know. I invite people to showcase their experiments in science and technology?"

"We're not doing that," Obie says. "And we're sure as shit not doing it here."

"It's my house," Tony says. "And I want to do it. Otherwise I'll get bored. Do you want me to get bored?"

"I have to fly to New York for a week," Obie says. "You'll regret this." And he walks out.

A warning is a polite thing to do. Tony doesn't think it's a threat.

Tony does regret it. He's got his dark glasses on, even though it looks like it's about to rain. It's three days later and the Expo is up. He only invited a dozen people to present--some of the best, some of the rest, keeps things interesting. He took one of the slots himself, and he has the suit displayed on a low stage surrounded by flashing lights. He hasn't field tested it, and he's not sure why. But he can't fly it drunk and sleep-deprived, and he's always drunk and sleep-deprived.

Two days before the Expo, Tony leaked information about his project to the media. He talked it up, telling them exactly what it's supposed to be. With tech like this, if it works, people like Captain America wouldn't be dead.

Tony is almost feeling good. The Expo is a one-day done deal, so he thinks he can get through it without taking a drink. Everything is great. Then Obie shows up.

"Hi?" Tony twists, shaking Obie's hand off his shoulder. "I thought New York?"

"New York can wait," Obie says. "I wouldn't miss this for the world. Iron Man, huh? I saw that on the internet." It's like he's never heard of the internet before.

Then Tony sees his least favorite person alive, Justin Hammer. Tony didn't give Hammer a slot in the Expo, so he's clearly just sight-seeing.

"Wow," Hammer says, jamming his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. "Quite a party, Tony."

"Not a party," Tony says, as if to a child. "It's an exposition." No stumbling this time.

Hammer leans close to Tony's carefully displayed suit, that idiotic, buttery smirk plastered across his face. "What is all this? You're not exactly pulling off the _iron_ thing, I've gotta say."

"It's not actually iron," Tony says, considering having the suit descend into the ground.

He knows it's the wrong response even before Hammer says, "Then I guess the media's 0 for 2 this time."

"It's a gold-titanium alloy," Tony mutters, wishing Obie weren't seeing this. "It's actually a lot stronger than iron."

Hammer laughs. "No offense, but I'm not sure you really _embody the metaphor_."

Tony glances around to see if anyone else is paying attention. One hot girl and an older guy with an eyepatch. Great.

"And if you ask me," Hammer continues relentlessly, "this is a waste. If I were in your shoes, I'd be spending a little more time enhancing other things."

Tony taps his chest and gives Hammer a meaningful look. "I think this counts. More than your failed, uh...what was it you applied with again?"

"But what about unofficially? I mean, come on, Tasha, I'm surprised you haven't invented a, a robot dick yet." Hammer chuckles, sounding incredulous and friendly.

"Kid, get out of here. Tony's got work to do," Obie says, stepping around Tony and giving Hammer a shove that's probably rougher than it looks.

Hammer looks startled and retreats, giving Tony a half smile.

Tony sighs and scoops his blueprint away. "Great. You know, I could have handled that."

Obie puts his hand on Tony's shoulder and smiles. "But that's why I'm here, huh? So you don't have to."

After that, there are a few hours on the humid, stormy lawn where Tony thinks he and Obie might fuck. Not at the Expo, obviously, but tonight, after. He can imagine (remember) Obie's hands wrapped around his biceps, propelling him backwards against a wall, into bed,wherever. He knows how Obie's hands feel, because Obie is a really physical person and is always touching him.

Tony remembers Obie grinding up against him from behind, the night before he left for MIT. He was too young to want anybody to touch him like that, but Obie was the only one who cared about Tony's professors getting his name right, so he let it happen. The disconnect between that and now is so complete that Tony doesn't believe it happened half the time. (It would be easier to pretend that if it had only been once.)

Nothing happens after the Expo, but Tony wonders if Obie could tell how much he was thinking about it.

Two months later, everything changes. Tony's slow slide into trying and failing to make the suit work, drinking, and going to parties comes to an abrupt halt. It's October, and Obie is staying over. He does that a lot. Tonight, though, Tony is woken by at four in the morning by sirens.

He absorbs the information in flashes. There are cops in his bedroom, asking if he's okay. They're saying Obie is in the hospital.

They're saying Tony's suit was destroyed.

Tony is still a little drunk from the night before, and he has trouble sorting through everything. There was a break in. Someone with an energy weapon of some kind. The guy's in custody. No, Tony can't talk to him.

Tony wonders if Pepper will call, but she doesn't.

They let Obie out of the hospital the next day. Just some bumps and bruises, which is a miracle. Tony uses his money and refusal to back down to bully his way into talking to the attacker after all, but he learns on the way that it's mostly because the attacker won't talk to anyone else.

"JARVIS," he says on the way, "fill me in."

The learns the man's name, but not a lot else. When they get there, the cops ask Obie to wait outside. Fine with Tony.

Ivan Vanko looks like shit. Tony can relate. "Do you speak English?" Tony asks in Russian.

"No," Vanko says. "Where is Stane?"

"Outside," Tony says, startled. "Did you want him? Because I thought you asked for me. Not that I'm not flattered--"

"No, that's good," Vanko says. "Tony Stark. Do you know what your father took from mine?"

He tells Tony. It could be true. It probably is.

"So my dad steals your dad's research and you destroy my suit?" Tony asks.

Vanko shrugs. "That technology isn't yours. If they hadn't stopped me, I would have found you and ripped it out of your chest." Tony winces. "But what Stane is doing with it is worse."

"He's trying to use it to power weapons," Tony says. "It's what we do. Get used to it."

Vanko stares at him with complete disdain. He won't say anything after that, no matter how hard Tony tries. Finally, Tony turns to go.

"I have advice for you," Vanko says in English, voice thick.

"You and everyone else," Tony returns, annoyed. "You're sitting in a cell and I'm a billionaire. Tell me, what've you got?"

Vanko laughs. "Never sell your soul. Not anything. Your body." He looks Tony over scornfully, eyes resting on the glow of the reactor in Tony's chest. " _Your_ skills. _Your_ technology. And no--" He spits. "Collaborators."

"I think you have the wrong idea, Ivan," Tony says, but he feels so distant, like his body is one place and he's somewhere else entirely. He can't feel his hands, and he recognizes it as one of the panic attacks he's been having. They sometimes start like this, like being in a room and then suddenly not being there at all. He tries to take a deep breath, but he can't even do that.

"I have right idea," Vanko says with finality. "You spent all this time walking around, trying to be this big guy. But they make you bitch."

"Gonna pretend that's a mistranslation," Tony says distantly. He looks down at his hand, flexing his fingers. He's still here. He just needs to not melt down completely in front of Vanko. He realizes this is the first time in months he's had to deal with someone without Obie there.

"You pretend whatever," Vanko says, waving a hand. "But someday you wake up and realize they steal your whole life. Believe me. I know."

Whatever Vanko thinks they have in common, Tony doesn't want to hear it. Can't hear it, right now. He practically flees the room, gulping air. By that point, it's too late. He's shaking, and he feels like he's having a heart attack. Ha ha, his heart should really know better. But he knows this isn't his heart, it's his emotions. Not something a doctor can fix, at least not a doctor Tony's willing to go to. Too famous, too stubborn. He puts his hands flat on the wall in the hallway, trying to breathe.

That's where Obie finds him. He puts his hand on Tony's shoulder, and Tony nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Shit," he says. He doesn't even sound like himself. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Vanko shook you up pretty bad, huh?" Obie says. "I told you not to go alone."

"Dick," Tony pants.

"If your father could see you now" Obie says, annoyed.

Tony waves a finger at him. "Don't. Don't, don't, don't do that."

Obie puts his hand on the back of Tony's neck and Tony doesn't say anything.

After that, things get worse. Tony doesn't got out in public much, but when he does, he always ends up being drunk or something stupid that looks stupid on TV later. He tries to rebuild the suit, but the drive just isn't there. And he's sick.

He knows it's the reactor in his chest. He can't live without it, but it's killing him. He doesn't know how much time is left.

If he's dying, who cares what else he does?

*

At least Happy is still there. Tony sometimes goes out for a drive, just to spend time with him. They drive around just over the speed limit, Happy taking corners carefully and competently.

"You love me, right, Happy?" Tony says. It's sunset, and they're driving to get food.

"I think you're depressed," Happy says.

He's not depressed, he's dying. Those are totally different things. But whatever, Tony buys both of them dinner and doesn't feel like he's going to be sick, so that counts as a good day.

*

Tony sometimes justifies Obie touching him by thinking about Rhodey touching him. Tony was underage then, too. The difference was that Rhodey didn't know, and when he found out, he never touched Tony like that again. Tony doesn't know which of the three of them is the biggest asshole, but it's probably not Rhodey. He just wants to be wanted, by someone who knows all his secrets and his flaws and doesn't walk out the door. The only person who still fulfills those criteria is Obie.

Tony lies awake, thinking about this. Thinking about his beating heart, about the sharpnel, about the arc reactor technology that powers him like a reactor, like a bulb, like a bomb. His body could be a weapon or a toy. Whatever it is, it doesn't feel like his. It used to, in that brilliant spiral between age nineteen and Afghanistan. He took every step to make it his, and now he's back to being sixteen and scared, letting college boys touch him and call him Tasha because he doesn't feel like he even lives inside his skin.

Then it's on the news: things are not only worse for Tony, they're worse for the world. Tony is lying on his workbench, flipping through the news, when he sees it.

"JARVIS, pause," he says. He puts down the bottle in his hand very carefully.

There was an attack in Germany. Not something human. This is what Tony thought he could help with, and what a goddamn stupid thing that was to think.

He checks his blood toxicity and goes to try to sober up.

When he goes to get in the car, Happy isn't in the driver's seat. He's standing outside, leaning on it.

"I quit," Happy says.

Tony laughs. "You quit? _You_ quit? What am I even supposed to say to that? Of course you quit. Next it'll be Obie."

"I don't think so, sir," Happy says stonily.

Tony half expects JARVIS to quit, too, but after all, JARVIS is just Tony. And Tony can't quit. He wonders what his dad would say if he could see Tony now. He wonders what his _mom_ would say. Which of them would hate him more, and for what? If he slows down and thinks about that, maybe he _will_ quit.

Tony unplugs from the world. He stops going out entirely, even for parties. He can drink alone in the workshop, right? He does keep the news on, though, because something incredible has happened.

Captain America is alive. Tony used to kind of resent Captain America, because his dad wouldn't shut up about him, but he always secretly thought he was cool. Wouldn't it be great, to have people see you and feel that way about it? It's probably all propaganda and the guy is a dick, but who knows?

Tony asks JARVIS to do some digging. The inhuman thing from Germany is named Loki, which leads Tony down a whole research spiral. There's a team who keeps clashing with him in the following weeks, with very little success. The visual JARVIS pulls up of the guy leading it is familiar.

"He was at the Expo," Tony says. "Recruiting, you think?"

"He didn't approach you," JARVIS says neutrally.

Well, Tony is no Captain America. He turns off the news.

*

It's nine-thirty at night. Tony is just starting to get into work. Pushing himself to work is a slog these days, but he's got a new idea he can almost sink his teeth into. He's thinking of incorporating elements of those whips Vanko used to attack the house into his suit design. Then maybe he can finally get it back in shape.

He's in his lab when the power cuts out. Swearing when his music won't turn back on, Tony stands up for his workbench.

"JARVIS?"

No answer. The power is really out, then.

Is this another Vanko situation? Tony comes upstairs slowly, wishing his suit was ready. There's a wrench in his hand, but that's it.

In the living room stands Loki. Tony knows him from TV, from Germany. In person, he shimmers with unbridled, frenetic energy, even standing still. He has eyes like pools of fire.

"I've been hearing about you," Tony says casually.

Loki smiles mirthlessly. He's holding some kind of weapon in his hand. It glows blue, and all Tony can think about it his technology.

"You were in Germany," Tony says. "And not just there. You've been causing a lot of problems. But I heard there are people standing up to you."

Loki's lip curls. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"I get a lot of visitors," Tony says.

Loki takes a few soft steps toward Tony. "You are nothing." The way he says it, it feels true.

Tony shrugs. "I may not be a superhero, but at least I'm not government property, like Fury's team."

"True. You just belong to Stane."

That hits Tony like a fist. How does Loki know that? That wasn't Tony's plan, was it? So how did it end up that way? Is he really that stupid? Rhetorical questions, he realizes. He set the trap himself and walked right in, because being an adult was too goddamn hard. He wonders if Loki knows a thing or two about that, too.

"You don't know Obie," he says, either as a defense or an explanation.

"Oh, but I do," Loki says, low and menacing. He looks like a cornered animal, his whole body a hiss. Tony feels like he's seeing something that's buried deep inside himself exposed. Queer, angry, sick. He has all that inside him, doesn't he? "I know," Loki says. "I know what he did to you."

"You are _definitely_ going to have to be more specific," Tony says, inching toward Loki. Can you hit a god with a wrench? Maybe it won't make a difference, but adults try.

"I know how he shaped you," Loki says. "From the time you were a mere child. Did you ever stop to think that you were being used?" He practically spits the last sentence.

Tony could speculate about how much Loki is projecting, but he doesn't have the time or the information. "That was a long time ago," he says. "And I'm pretty sure you weren't there."

"But I'm here now," Loki says, his face settling into a satisfied smile. "And Stane likes to talk almost as much as you do."

So, that doesn't sound great. Tony's first instinct is to warn Obie, which isn't great either.

"You didn't know," Loki says, delighted. "Yes. For months. I've been whispering in his ear, but he didn't need my encouragement in order to hurt you."

"I don't know what you think he can do for you," Tony says. "He's not good at much, except running my company. If you want an engineer, you want me."

"It would be nice for you if someone did want you," Loki says, clipped and careful. "But sadly, that's not why I'm here. I just need someone stupid enough to hand me the power of the arc technology."

Everybody wants Tony's heart, one way or another.

"Tell me he didn't," Tony says, but he already knows. Some part of him as always know that since he handed all the power over to Obie, this moment was coming.

"Struck dumb?" Loki asks. His eyes are burning bright. "The famous Tony Stark, who uses his words to change the world around him?"

Something is nagging at Tony, but he can't quite get there. Too many sleepless nights, too much alcohol, too many heavy hands on the back of his neck. It's clouding his ability to defend himself, let alone to strike a blow of his own.

"Well," he says. "Sometimes words don't do the trick."

"Oh, how right you are." Loki's staff glows more brightly. "Now you just look like a stupid child, standing there posturing. It's not grand or impressive this time, Tony Stark."

_How does he know so much about me?_ Tony wonders. Then he realizes, Loki doesn't know, not everything. He's just talking shit about himself and hoping some of it sticks to Tony. And in doing so, he's laying every raw nerve on display. Unfortunately, by the time Tony realizes that, Loki has raised the staff and pointed it at Tony's heart.

"I would say this is a shame, but you're better off dead," Loki says. "Believe me. You're fumbling for some kind of power that will save you, make you a better person. But you've always been weak. A victim."

"I hear you," Tony says. What are the chances the staff tears right through him? What are the chances he ends up a mindless zombie? He believes in himself, but how much?

"Prepare yourself for one more victimization," Loki says, and he levels it at Tony.

Nothing. The tip of the staff clicks against Tony's magnetic heart.

"How about that," Tony says, and he bashes Loki in the face with the wrench.

And then, because he can't actually beat a god, he runs. The house is dark, but he knows it like the back of his hand, and he's sober. As he's running, he calls Obie.

"Where are you?" he says as soon as Obie picks up.

"We lost power," Obie says.

"I wish," Tony says. "Listen, I gotta see you, nowish. Where are you?"

There's a pause. Tony doesn't like that. Then Obie says, "I'm waiting on a meeting. I'm out on the deck. Maybe later we can--"

Tony runs.

It's a clear night. Obie is out on the deck with a glass of wine, for all the world not looking like someone who is about to do a deal with a Norse god.

Before Tony can think of what to say, though, there's a crash from inside the house.

"Shit," Obie says.

"Nick Fury's team," Tony guesses. He knows as soon as he says it that this is it. He's confronting Obie and he can't go back from here. "Hey," he says conversationally, trying to catch his breath, "Is there a chance that you're not on my side?"

Obie raises his eyebrows. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Not on your side? Come on, Tony, I bought you your first suit."

"I make my own suits now," Tony says distantly, thinking of something else.

Something in Obie's face changes. Maybe appeasing Tony is no longer a priority. "Tony, Tony, Tony. You just need be a headline, don't you? Well, you'll go out with a bang."

Tony clenches his fists and tries to breathe. It's not from the running, now. "I won't go out at all," he says, through the rage and panic. "Does that scare you a little? I've rebuilt myself from the ground up. Twice. And I'm pretty sure you can't trick me into drinking myself to death."

Obie snorts. "Tony, grow up."

Tony sees red. "I don't think you mean that. I think if I grew up, you wouldn't actually like it at all." He pauses for breath, but not long enough for Obie to disagree. "In fact, I think what you're doing here only works because I'm—not grown up."

Obie smiles. "Go on, Tony, say it."

"A kid," Tony says. "A stupid, scared kid."

Obie nods, still smiling. "That's right. A messed-up little boy just waiting around for daddy to notice him." His voice is smooth and pleasant. He doesn't say _a messed-up little girl_ , because no matter how mad he gets at Tony, he never says anything like that. Tony isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to risk alienating him, or because he actually cares enough about getting it right. Doesn't matter now.

"But I'm not," Tony says evenly. He feels light-headed. "I'm a genius, and you're not, and you're going to find out where that becomes a problem. And you may have taken all my friends, but--"

"Taken your friends?" Obie sounds incredulous. "Tony, you drove them away. I didn't make Pepper leave. I didn't make you jerk Rhodes around for years."

But Tony has been filling in the gaps with what he can get his hands on. He has Vanko's advice ringing in his ears, and Loki's, however ill-intentioned. That's better than friends, at least in this moment. "No more collaborators," he says.

"Huh. Sounds like we all made some mistakes, huh?"

"I mean, I made the mistake of thinking you were my _friend_ , and I don't know how much you were faking, with the pizza and the sex and the, I don't know, you were my _friend_."

"Hey, now, Tony, I'm sure the pizza was real."

Tony can't actually imagine anything worse than spending half his life fixing something only to be told he's broken it instead.

Then Obie knocks him out, and he can imagine something worse.

When Tony comes to, they're till on the deck. There's shouting from downstairs, and from somewhere above. Helicopters? Or, no, one of those guys can fly, right? Surely somebody can see what's going on up here.

Obie is crouched next to Tony, holding the reactor that was in Tony's chest. It's still attached, but Obie is turning it in his hands like he's ready to yank it out.

So the timeline for Tony dying has spend up a little.

"I'm giving Loki the big one, and the weapons, but I'm keeping this one for myself," he says. "Don't think you're the only one who can build suits."

Tony did think that.

Obie dips a finger in the reactor discharge in Tony's chest and says, "Feels like we've been here before, don't you think? Should've known you'd get wetter for your tech than for me. But you do still get wet for me, don't you, Tony? There are things I can do to you that no one else can. Hell, that no one else _will_."

"That's not true," Tony manages.

Obie raises his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Not ever? C'mon, who else would've played with your tits and still called you Tony in the morning?"

"I didn't _want_ \--"

"No? But you came for me enough times."

Tony can't think straight. He knows he's dying, but worse than that, he's losing Obie, Obie who is the only one who stayed when everyone else walked away. Obie is saying all the things Tony thought he would never say, Tony's fears turned inside out and made solid. Tony is so, so stupid.

"Come on, kiddo, talk to me," Obie says. Tony can feel Obie's hand on the side of his face. He sounds so pleased.

"In the cave," Tony manages. "You did that. You tried to kill me."

"And this time I'm not gonna just try," Obie says, annoyed. "But don't worry, you were useful before you died. You were useful a lot of times." He's still too close to Tony, his body crushing Tony's with its nearness.

"Why?" Tony asks, because it seems like a fair question.

"Because you're a spoiled little brat. I never liked you very much, except for your cunt."

Tony's is too horrified to even be angry. He doesn't have time to process this, or to come back around to understanding that maybe Obie was just as bad back then. He's dying.

"What do you want from me?"

Obie laughs. "Tony, I _had_ what I wanted. A force that powerful in my pocket and no accountability?"

"That's the thing, there's always accountability."

"Not for me," Obie says, and now he has to raise his voice to make it heard over the shouting from above them. The fact that the Avengers are somewhere around here should help. Obie's not going to kill him with so many people around. Is he?

"You think that," Tony says, "but trust me, everybody answers to somebody. Loki could kick your ass without blinking." To his satisfaction, he sees anger flicker across Obie's face. "Yeah," he continues, "he's a god. You're, what, a CFO?"

"CEO, Tony," Obie says. "I have your company. I have your arc tech. I have it all. You don't have a single thing left."

Tony knows he's right. No Pepper, no Rhodey, no Happy. No JARVIS, up here with the power out. No suit, probably not even any money, if Obie wants it that way. Certainly no backup from the Avengers; they have real problems to deal with. So what does he have?

Tony shuts his eyes and all he can hear is the beating of his heart. His messed-up heart that's trying to kill him. The heart that's in his chest with him no matter what, no matter where he goes, because all Tony has left right now is himself.

He opens his eyes.

Later, Tony will wish he'd said more. Like, hey, you fucked me when I was a teenager, that was pretty messed up.

Obie is watching him, reactor in hand, waiting for him to make a move. But he knows Tony has nothing, too. Tony can see both of them still playing out all the ways this could go, but for Tony, there's only one way, now.

"Hey," he says.

"What?" Obie says, confident and huge.

"I was going to say think fast, but you've never been great at that," Tony says, and he opens his heart.

When the blue glow clears, Obie is gone. Tony pops the reactor back into his chest, where it can kill him more slowly. Then he lies down on the deck to see what will happen next.

*

When he wakes up, he's in a hospital bed somewhere, or maybe not a hospital. He doesn't see any doctors or nurses. Pepper and Rhodey are here, though, and Nick Fury, and the hot girl from the Expo.

"I definitely remember your silhouette," he says.

She swears in Russian. "We had to save him?" she asks.

"Well, he took care of Stane," Fury says wearily. "This is Natasha Romanoff, by the way."

"He's dead?" Tony asks, trying to piece things back together.

"He experienced the full force of that weapon in your chest," Romanoff says with some relish.

Right. Tony is a weapon. Does that make him as bad as Obie? He slowly replays the last few hours. Nope. Not as bad.

"Tony," someone says. It's Pepper. She's been watching him with barely contained anxiety.

"Give us a sec," Rhodey says to Fury, but not like it's a request.

Fury nods, and he and Romanoff retreat. Fury stops at the door and sets down his briefcase. "This is for you," he says. "If you ever feel like not dying."

"What?" Tony asks. But Fury is gone. Tony looks at Rhodey and Pepper. "I'm in trouble," he hazards.

Pepper makes a horrible noise and covers her mouth.

"Don't cry," Tony instructs her. He's so stupidly glad to see her.

"I'm going to kill you," she says.

"Just so we're clear, I'm still mad at you," Rhodey says. 

"I know," Tony says, "And I'm sorry. Both of you, sorry." They look at him like they're waiting for something else, but that's it. No quips. He almost lost them. He did lose them.

Finally, Rhodey rolls his eyes. "It's fine."

Pepper digs her nails into Tony's arm and breathes out, which Tony thinks means the same thing.

"Is Happy coming back?" Tony asks.

Rhodey looks at Pepper. Why is he looking at Pepper? Is she in charge of Happy's life now?

"You'll have to give him a raise," Pepper says.

"And you?" Tony asks. "What do I have to give you?"

"More than a raise."

But Tony already knows. Obie was right, Tony isn't in a place to run the company. But now he's seeing that there are other places for him. If they want him. If he pulls it together.

"Are you working with Fury?" he asks Rhodey.

"Pepper is," Rhodey says.

"What?" says Tony.

Pepper gives him a perfectly serene smile. "SHIELD recruited me. After I quit. I just pulled Rhodey in for help at the end there."

Tony thinks about that for a minute. "Help with...wait a minute, was I _bait?_ Were you staking Obie out?"

They both look uncomfortable. "No," Pepper says. "But you wouldn't listen to me. So I guess in a way, you were. But we didn't know how bad it was until Fury's briefing before the fight."

And how much does that mean they know? Tony's whole history with Obie, or just the parts where he was old enough to know better? Tony feels sick.

"Where's Loki now?" he asks.

"Home," Pepper says. "Asgard. Thor took him."

"It's better than he deserves," Rhodey says.

"Mm," Pepper says. "Maybe, but it's what he's got."

Yeah. Tony gets that.

*

It turns out the Avengers do want Tony. They need a consultant, and there are some gaps in Bruce Banner's knowledge and willingness to work.

Tony tells them he needs two months. Then he opens Fury's briefcase.

It takes him three weeks to create a new element from his dad's instructions. He thinks it would have gone quicker, but he's also in rehab. It's a "dual diagnosis" program, which Tony leans means mental health and substance stuff. The social worker who runs it is warm and funny and doesn't take any bullshit.

Tony hangs around after group one day. He can't wait to get back to work, but for once, he isn't rushing himself. If he rushes, he'll trip, and he's not setting himself up for that again.

"Hey," he says, sitting down by his social worker. "Be honest with me."

"Always," Sam says, but like he's suspicious.

"Do you think I'm close to being back in good shape?" Tony doesn't trust himself to know right now.

Sam looks at him carefully. "Here's the thing," he says. "This isn't one and done. It's a lifelong thing. Complex PTSD is--complex. It's trauma on top of trauma."

Tony thinks about Obie's hands, and Afghanistan, and the Obie trying to kill him, and the overlap between all of those things. "Ah," he says.

"So think of it as a process," Sam says. "What do you want to be in shape for? If we're looking at a goal, we can look at getting you there."

"I want to be an Avenger," Tony says.

Sam's face does something complicated, suddenly becoming less open. "Huh," he says. "Yeah. We can get you there. You don't have any powers, though."

"Not all of them do," Tony says. "But I bet you all of them have been through wars."


End file.
